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The praise given by abeloved teacher ... his high school graduation, a time of joy and sadness.His family was there, cheering and clapping as he came down the aisle,diploma in hand. His father was older and grayer, as were his aunts anduncles. His teenage sister snapped her bubblegum at him. His father'sweathered face glowed with approval, something long cherished by the son -yet Finnegan could still see a reservoir of sadness behind the gray eyes, asolemn reminder that his mother wasn't there,. I kept quiet and listened to her moving quickly around in the room, looking for somewhere to hide. Then to my annoyance I heard her outside my hiding place, and the door of the wardrobe began to open. “Go away,” I hissed, “This is my place,” and the door closed again. Then I heard the door to the adjacent part of the wardrobe open, and whoever it was squeezed in. They must have had to crouch right down, because there was a shelf at about waist height, although the lower part of the wardrobe was. I closed my eyes and moaned in pain.There was a movement like as if someone sat down on my bed by my feet. I slowly opened my eyes and saw a man sitting there. He had black hair and looked to be in his thirties with dark eyes.“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” I managed to ask in a weak voice. I pulled the sheet over my naked body.When he spoke it was a deep voice that reminded me of someone. I noted that he didn’t have any pupils but little blue flames as irises.“I go by many. As you can imagine, this was enough for a couple of kids to pick up on and I haven't heard the end of it for the last decade and a half.I should get up, can't have the world thinking I'm dead, and the memory of that face between my thighs means I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.I clamber out of my double bed and yank the nearby chest of drawers, quickly checking the clock on top, 7:40, 50 minutes to shower, dress, eat and get to school. Who am I kidding? I'll eat during attendance. I rifle.
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